


WELCOME TO THE CASE

by Anne_Fairchild



Category: Vienna Blood (TV)
Genre: Bear fetish, Cuddling & Snuggling, First Time, Frottage, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Needy Max, Needy Oskar, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:01:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22371466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anne_Fairchild/pseuds/Anne_Fairchild
Summary: A typically reckless Max has a close call and is shaken to vulnerability, and reveals his feelings to Oskar.
Relationships: Max Liebermann/Oskar Rheinhardt
Comments: 7
Kudos: 27





	WELCOME TO THE CASE

As the carriage pulled away from the riverbank, Inspector Rheinhardt thought to pull the curtains to keep the cold air out before he turned to Max, shivering, wet, and wrapped in a blanket.

“What is _wrong_ with you? Do you have to go around _asking_ to be assaulted or murdered? You pay no attention to anyone. You have no care for the real danger you put yourself in. Think of your parents, for God’s sake!” he berated. Without thinking, in his overwhelming relief he crushed Max to him in a hug that lasted slightly too long. Instead of pulling away or protesting as Rheinhardt expected him to, he felt Max go limp, resting quietly against him.

“Are you all right?” he asked immediately.

“Mmmm.”

“Max, what the-“

“I didn’t think of my parents.”

“Clara, or the Lydgate woman then?”

“You. I thought of you, Oskar.” The admission was mumbled against the inspector’s lapel. He tightened his grip a little.

“What are you saying?” Oskar was afraid to breathe.

“That I came to understand, when I thought I might not survive, something which has been troubling me for some time.”

“Which is?”

“Do you think you could hold me closer? For body heat, Inspector,” Max murmured. He lay his head on Oskar’s shoulder.

“You are either being a brat, _Doktor_ Liebermann, having a joke at my expense, or you are suggesting something dangerous and improper.”

“Improper, I grant you. Are you dangerous?”

Rheinhardt grunted. “I might have been once. Not any longer.”

Max was shaking, and Rheinhardt wished he had another blanket. The doctor’s fingers gripped his coat.

“I knew I didn’t love Clara the way I should. The way you’re supposed to love someone you want to spend your life with. I never had the physical desire or the terrible worry for her that most people feel with love. I didn’t really feel it with Amelia either, although for a while I was convinced I did. I didn’t miss their presence every moment until I was with them again.

“In the river, praying I wasn’t going to drown, I understood that the person I do have such feelings for is you, Oskar. No jokes,” Max finished in a whisper. “Do I disgust you?”

Jesus. Could things really be that simple, the inspector wondered, that easy? Yet where Doctot Max Liebermann was concerned, in his experience nothing was simple.

Rheinhardt sighed. “No. You do not disgust me. But you’re young. You have interests and enthusiasms about many things. You like to research, to investigate and to write in your journals. I can’t know if this sudden decision is real and serious, or just another temporary interest. And I do not want to be one of your investigations, only a footnote in your life,” he explained honestly.

Max sat up, and pulled back enough to look into Oskar’s eyes.

“No,” he protested. “It’s not like that. I don’t know what I can say to make you believe me. It’s not a game for me,” he pleaded.

God knew Oskar wanted to believe him.

“It doesn’t come to you overnight that you care for another man,” he protested.

“Not usually, I suppose,” Max conceded. “But sometimes it must, to some people.” Unhappy with the skepticism he saw in Rheinhardt’s eyes and knowing things were not going well, he impulsively leaned forward and kissed him on the mouth. After a second or two of shock, Oskar returned the kiss.

Max was innocent and honest in his affection. The feelings he roused in Oskar were anything but innocent.

“And what will I do - what will become of our friendship - when you tire of me, hm?” Oskar asked, pulling away slightly.

“It isn’t like that,” Max persisted. He paused for a moment, then asked softly “Will you at least let me stay like this, for a little while longer?” His voice was wistful. “I really don’t feel well.”

Oskar sighed in resignation and again allowed Max to rest against him. Truthfully, he wanted to hug him close and never let him go out into the world to be hurt again. He rubbed Max’s shoulder in wordless comfort. The doctor shivered miserably with cold and nerves. Rheinhardt knew very well he shouldn’t do this, that it could be emotionally dangerous to him. But if he believed Max’s distress to be real, his feelings could be genuine as well.

Max sighed in audible relief. “Don’t take me home. Please. I love my family, but they’ll smother me with their concern and I’ll end up alone, wishing I was with you. I won’t even touch you. Just don’t push me away. Not today.”

Oskar groaned to himself. Whatever he might have imagined about keeping Max at arm’s length, he wasn’t going to bet on success.

“All right. But you need to tell your family something, don’t you? I’ll have the driver go on to your house after he leaves us,” he agreed.

When they arrived at Oskar’s, he sent Max inside while he dealt with the coachman. He followed a couple of minutes later, and set about starting a fire and lighting the lamps.

“You need to get out of those wet clothes. Take everything off down to your vest and underwear, wrap yourself in this, and sit by the fire,” he instructed, holding a blanket out to Max. “I asked your family to send you dry clothes. They will not worry about you tonight. I’ll see about something to eat.”

He returned in several minutes to find Max still dressed, curled up on the sofa looking lost. Oskar supposed he was having some kind of delayed reaction to the events of the day. He’d seen it before, and it wouldn’t be surprising after what he’d been through.

Oskar sat him up gently and began to undress him, spreading his clothes near the fire to dry as he removed them. He put a hand to Max’s forehead and found it somewhat warm. Not good. He pulled the blanket snugly around him.

“There is soup and beer. Not what you’re used to, but it’s what was here. Can you come to the dining room?” Oskar coaxed, putting a hand under Max’s elbow.

Max looked at him with something like fear in his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I just..I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he repeated, his voice sharp with distress.

Oskar couldn’t bear to see him so very unlike the Max he knew..and loved, so lost and frightened. He reached inside the blanket to take Max’s hand.

“Don’t worry, it’s all right. There’s no problem. I’ll bring dinner to you,” he reassured him.

He brought a bowl of soup and mug of beer and sat down beside Max, ready to support him while he ate. He very quickly saw how Max’s hands shook holding the bowl and even the spoon however, and took them from him.

“Never mind. We’ll do it this way.” He fed Max the soup, spoonful by spoonful, accompanied by sips of beer, until the hearty warmth began to penetrate his body’s defenses. By the time the food was gone Max was a little calmer, though he still shivered slightly. Perhaps he was having chills, fighting off the low fever. He needed to be warmed up, certainly. Oskar stroked his hand, and spoke softly, his voice a low rumble.

“It isn’t that I don’t want you to kiss me or touch me, it’s that I _do_ want you to. I have wanted it before, I want it now and I’ll want it tomorrow. But it’s not so simple.”

Max looked at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

“Have you ever been intimate with anyone? You must be honest with me, please,” Oskar asked.

Max bit his lip, and looked away when he spoke.

“It depends on what you mean by intimate,” he mumbled.

“Max.” Oscar responded somewhat sharply.

“A few times.”

“With a woman or a man?”

“Not with a woman.”

“So..you make me ask you questions I don’t want to have to ask, and you don’t really answer. This is not a good beginning,”Oskar sighed.

Max looked uncomfortable.

“I have never had intercourse with a woman. Once, when I was drunk and a student, a prostitute..with her hands and mouth. At school..my..my own hand, and once or twice with other boys,” he mumbled.

“But not since then? You have felt no desire to - ?”

Max shook his head. “My studies and the hospital kept me very busy. It wasn’t until…” His voice trailed off.

“Until?”

“Until I met you.” It was the barest whisper.

Oh Goddammit, Oskar thought. How am I supposed to fight that? He tipped Max’s chin up gently so that Max had to look at him.

“You are inexperienced and vulnerable. That’s a responsibility. Do you see?”

“Yes,” Max acknowledged, blue eyes meeting Oskar’s brown ones reluctantly. “Does that mean you only feel an obligation, then?”

Christ, he is breaking my heart, Oskar sighed to himself. Confident, brash and cheeky Max had been replaced by this uncertain, traumatized young man who said he was in love with him. It was all or nothing with God, it seemed. Nothing but grief and loneliness for years, and then this miracle literally dropped in his lap. Who was he to refuse it?

“No,” Oskar shook his head. “That’s not what it means. It only means things are a little complicated - for me, not for you. It doesn’t mean I don’t care for you too,” he reassured Max. “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be concerned about any of this.”

Max seemed to consider. He nodded. “I suppose.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Oskar assured him. “I wasn’t trying to shame you. It only means we’ll go slowly. We’ll do what feels right for both of us, hm?” he coaxed. “And whatever we do or don’t do, we’ll enjoy ourselves and be happy. I almost lost you today. You aren’t the only one thinking of such things.” Oskar reminded him. Max smiled up at him.

“You’re right of course,” he agreed, subdued.

There was a knock at the door. When Oskar returned he held a paper-wrapped parcel, the clothes Max’s mother would have selected. “For tomorrow,” he said.

“Tomorrow,” Max echoed shyly.

“Come, I think we need to get you truly warm,” Oskar decided. “You had a bad chill in that river.”

While Max sat on the sofa, Oskar made a cozy spot in front of the grate and added more coal. No fine rugs or beautiful hearth, but it would have to do. Blanket and cushions were piled so that Max would have a warm nest.

“Get comfortable, and warm,” Oskar invited. Max looked at the blankets and cushions, then up at Oskar.

“Not by myself,” he murmured, half-question, half-plea.

He hesitated for a long moment, then with a sigh Oskar silently removed his shoes and his shirt, unwilling to reveal more of his middle-aged body to Max before he had to. As soon as he lowered himself to the floor, Max happily snuggled against him. Maneuvering so that Max’s back was to the fire, Oskar wrapped them both in a blanket and lay back in the cushions. Max made a soft rooting noise and gave a contented sigh.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Thank you he says to me, Oskar groaned inwardly. The thing, the person, I have been dreaming about - actually dreaming about, in my bed at night - is in my arms wanting only to love me, he says. Perhaps I should be thanking those bastards who took him, as well as thanking God, that he’s here with me.

He said nothing, only rubbed Max’s back lightly under the blanket. He felt the tense, uncertain body relax little by little until he wondered if Max was asleep. It wouldn’t matter if he was, Oskar thought, because he’d succumbed to the pleasure of simply having Max in his arms. In his experience men rarely behaved so, sex was all there was between them most of the time. That was one of the reasons Max frightened him. Max clearly wanted more, but _he_ wanted more of Max, too.

This was such a different Max than the confident, brash, take-charge man he knew. From the face he presented to the world and anything he’d ever said, Max held himself politely aloof from others and from their emotions. Since his profession was other people’s emotions, maybe it was natural that he try to appear, or to be, unemotional himself. Yet he wasn’t, as today clearly showed. What he’d revealed of himself was as intimate as any secret he extracted from his patients, yet he gave it freely, showing his heart openly. It made Oskar feel very protective. His hold tightened, and Max stirred.

“I’ve been wanting this for a such a long time,” Max murmured against his chest.

“I forbid myself to want something I thought I could never have,” Oskar admitted, petting him softly.

Cautiously, like a puppy who is afraid of being reprimanded for he knows not what, Max pressed his lips to the bare skin of Oskar’s shoulder, light and tentative. Oskar shifted and turned, his lips brushing Max’s softly at first, then gradually slipping into a gentle kiss. Max’s breath hitched. He returned the kiss, drawing it out with tenderness, kissing Oskar’s lips, the corner of his mouth, his chin and nose. He was trying to express what he hadn’t been able to say until today. What he was still hesitant to say because he feared rejection.

Oskar would simply have to be as brave as his young soon-to-be lover. He kissed Max for all the reasons that were more to do with his heart than his _Schwanz._ The kisses went from soft and light to deeper, longer, with Max whimpering in eagerness to reciprocate. The sweet mouth opened beneath his and welcomed him without hesitation. Inexperienced yes, but also fearless; that was the Max he knew.

An unbidden possessiveness was tempered by an overriding tenderness. Oskar wanted to touch, to kiss every inch of him. He pulled at Max’s vest, and he raised his hands to help. Unwilling to stop, he slipped Max’s underwear down his hips and off, leaving him naked in the firelight.

Max was breathing rapidly, his pupils dilated. Oskar detected a slight trembling that he was trying hard to hide.

“Don’t be afraid,” he murmured. “It’s only me, and I will never hurt you.” Max swallowed, and tried to smile.

Oskar gazed at him with both wonder and hunger. As slim and elegant without his clothes as he was in them, Max’s body was as delicate as his own was stocky and out of shape. He was so pale compared to the detective, with skin like fine marble. Oskar could trace the blue veins just below the surface, see the pulse throbbing at his neck. Dark hair trailed down the middle of his chest, finishing in a tangle of silk above his sweet rosy _Schwanz,_ which greeted Oskar half erect.

“Exquisite,” he breathed. It was a word he’d only had cause to use a few times in his life, but it was appropriate now. He delighted at the blush which bloomed in Max’s cheeks and continued down his neck. “You are,” he affirmed with a smile. He ran his hands lightly over Max’s body, gently exploring, dropping soft kisses. Max moaned softly, and this time Oskar knew exactly why he shivered.

“I want you,” he purred, “very much, beautiful Max. I want to give you all the pleasure you deserve, in case you were still wondering. I think it will be more comfortable for both of us if we go to the bed now,” he suggested, rising. “Come.” He held out his hand.

Intent on Oskar’s voice, aroused by the pleasure of his hands and mouth, Max rose and followed. Once they reached the bed, he dared to pull Oskar’s vest from his trousers, and unbuckle his belt.

“Please. I want to see you,” he stated softly, his throat dry, voice rusty in the quiet room. Oskar closed his eyes and gave a resigned shrug. He pulled the vest off over his head, then stood to remove his trousers, and last his underwear.

Max stared as Oskar lay on the bed. He reached out to brush his fingers over the dense hair covering Oskar’s entire chest and much of his body. To him, Oskar was the essence of maleness, having all those virile physical attributes he didn’t possess.

“There is nothing attractive about me, I know that. Maybe if you closed your eyes - “ Oskar began awkwardly. Max put a finger to his lips, shaking his head with a gentle smile.

“Don’t. To me, your body is as beautiful as your soul. Don’t think for a moment that looking at you doesn’t please me, excite me,” he revealed. “Seeing you makes me want to do things with you. I can’t even name what things, but I want them with you even so.”

Oskar suffered Max’s eyes to travel over him, moving downward. He was startled when Max began to kiss him, also moving downward. A soft, affectionate peck on the tip of his nose, a nibble at his lips and then he was groaning as Max’s tongue sought entrance and danced with his. Max’s mouth, teasing a nipple. Oskar moaned loudly. Realizing he was sensitive there, Max licked and sucked him in no rush, gratified to feel Oskar writhing beneath him. He’d been afraid, and still was a little, that his inexperience meant he wouldn’t please Oskar, which he wanted to do so badly.

Thick whorls of chest hair were soaked with sweat and Max’s saliva. He buried his nose in it, licking and kissing his way down Oskar’s middle-aged belly. He ran his hands down Oskar’s flanks and over his no longer taut flesh, kissing the belly, licking at his navel.

When he could manage a thought, Oskar realized that of course Max would know of his insecurities, and would show love to the very part of him he was most insecure about. It was one more reason he loved him.

Max held his cock with delicate hands, almost reverently. Oskar gave himself up to the feeling and the knowledge that it was Max touching him. It was sensual and honest in ways that Oskar hadn’t experienced in years. If Max was no expert he was still competent enough, and daring too, licking at the tip, flicking his tongue experimentally while Oskar whined unintelligibly with need.

Driven by arousal and instinct, Max moved to lie over him, rubbing his whole body, skin to skin, against Oskar’s. He buried his face in Oskar’s neck, moaning softly. Oskar relaxed his legs and grasped Max’s cheeks in both hands, pulling him in, urging him to make full contact. Max thrust against him, whimpering. Oskar met his thrusts, holding him, guiding him. They rocked in each other’s arms, rolling, one atop the other, back and forth, wrestling in slow motion, stimulating and simply _feeling_ each other. Max’s shy lust was arousing him every bit as much as more practiced lovemaking did. Where once he would have thought let’s have a proper end to this, nothing felt more right than exactly what was happening in the moment.

For Max, it was making love to all of Oskar - his body, his mind, and his warm, compassionate heart. Kind, loyal, giving Oskar. Max only wanted to give back some of the warmth he’d always known from him. What passion he felt was centered in Oskar. Whatever he might have done with others or had done to him, it had never driven him like this.

As they came closer to their release, Max was more than ready. He was exhausted, slightly feverish both physically and emotionally, and his body wanted _now._ Oskar on the other hand would have been quite happy to carry on a while yet being loved and appreciated by the delightful puzzle that was Doctor Max Liebermann. Understanding the situation, however, he quickened the rhythm of his thrusts. Sweat dripped onto his chest from Max’s forehead. He reached between them and grasped Max’s eager _Schwanz,_ pumping firmly. Max made a sound that was something between a groan and a howl, shuddered and let go, his seed flowing over Oskar’s fist and onto both their bellies and pubes. The expression on Max’s face as their gazes locked nearly pushed Oskar over the edge. What did make him lose control was a determined Max taking the head of his cock in his mouth and sucking purposefully. The wet heat and the sight of Max between his legs, pleasuring him, was more than enough. Oskar growled Max’s name, erupting forcefully, splashing onto Max’s face, a vision that when recalled later, he believed he would carry to his grave.

Within moments, Oskar saw that Max was swaying with exhaustion. He guided him down to the bed and snugged him under one arm.

“ _Guten Nacht, mein Engel._ Sleep now,” he whispered, stroking Max’s hair. Max mumbled something, turned in to Oskar’s embrace and was soon asleep, all the events of the day having caught up with him.

No one who knew Max, not even his family, would think of him or describe him as an angel, yet Oskar knew he was exactly that - his angel, in so many ways. He had been long before today, before they declared their feelings for each other. His gentleness, his innate sweetness, his devilish side, the respect tinged with affectionate teasing he gave - these were all things Oskar hadn’t experienced in a very long time. But what Max had gifted him with tonight was very special. The possessiveness returned, and the concern for his recklessness - they would need to talk about that, but there would be time, thanks to his angel, who had been brave enough to reveal himself. What if he hadn’t? How much time would they have wasted? What if neither of them had ever gotten up the courage?

Max stirred slightly and muttered something in his sleep. Oskar kissed his forehead softly.

“Welcome to the case, doctor,” he smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully, the German is pretty self-explanatory. Tell me in the Comments if you think I should have put a glossary here in the Notes. The title comes from the show’s dialogue and denotes ‘now we’re getting somewhere’ or even ‘the game’s afoot’ and the two of them are in it together.


End file.
